M is for:
by F.A. Star Hawk
Summary: Kotarou unexpectedly loses his voice and, contrary to his own beliefs, Akaba finds himself missing his constant arguments.


FASH: Oh Akaba, you don't know what you've got till it's gone. I think I may have made him a glutton for punishment. XD Someday I'll have to write something where it's Kotarou crushing on Akaba, just to see if I can do it.

Disclaimer: Still don't own, please don't sue.

M is for: Mute

-x-x-x-

Akaba had woken up that morning expecting the day ahead of him to be a typical Wednesday. He went through his normal routine before taking his usual route to school, running into Juri half way there and Kotarou coming into his sight just before they reached the main gates.

Kotarou arriving at school even slightly earlier than him was a little abnormal, something that Juri light-heartedly pointed out once they were within speaking distance.

Kotarou opened his mouth to protest, but his voice immediately cracked before completely disappearing.

Akaba rose an eyebrow, Juri giggled, and Kotarou blushed.

"Sh-... Up!" He somehow managed to grind out, although he took on a rather pained expression afterwards.

"Okay, okay, I won't laugh anymore." Juri promised with a wave of her hand.

"-...'d bet-... -ot!"

"Fuu." Akaba adjusted his glasses, unable to stop the smirk that was growing on his lips. "It would probably be best if you didn't speak at all, considering we can hardly understand you anyways."

The pink that had already overtaken Kotarou's cheeks deepened in colour, but before he could attempt to argue Juri had already lifted up a hand to silence him.

"Akaba-kun's right. You're not going to get your voice back if you keep straining it, so you should just take it easy and give your vocal chords a rest for today."

Kotarou frowned but nodded, probably only agreeing because it was Juri who suggested it.

Akaba, for his part, was immensely amused at the prospect of Kotarou having to stay silent for the day. He'd sometimes entertained thoughts of ways he could render the kicker speechless, just to see what it would be like to not be argued with for once.

This day might turn out to be rather pleasant.

Despite Kotarou's inability to speak school started up as it usually did, his classmates kept a respectful distance away from him, but still managed to give off the feeling of crowding around him anyways, and it wasn't long before someone goaded an opinion on something out of him, which was typically answered in his usual metaphoric way.

Akaba instinctively waited for the insult or reprimand he was used to getting after saying such a thing, and found himself in the mood to sulk when he remembered that Kotarou had lost his voice.

Kotarou's constant opposition of him, while sometimes annoying, had always been a bit of a thrill. No one had dared to argue with him before; girls fancied themselves too in love with him to think he was capable of doing anything wrong, and boys respected him and his apparent status of what women wanted too much to dare go against him.

But Kotarou was different. He didn't mind picking fights with him, didn't mind trying to set him straight when he thought Akaba needed some discipline. He even made it a point to vocalize his anger and disagreements, as if he were making up for all the times his classmates failed to reprimand him.

Kotarou didn't do that sort of thing for anyone else and, in a strange, twisted sort of way, Akaba felt honoured that Kotarou spent so much time trying to prove that Akaba was: _weird, 'not smart' _and a _cryptic bastard_.

That he was, in fact, human, just like everyone else.

Akaba glanced over to where Kotarou was sitting, directly behind him, having heard the comment as planned and openly glaring at him.

But a glare that only he noticed was nothing compared to a declaration that everyone inside the classroom and lingering in the hallway could hear.

"Yeah, exactly!" One of his classmates agreed loudly, the others who had swarmed around him nodded in agreement, despite them probably not understand the gist of what Akaba had said.

It was too easy to get everyone to agree with him, so easy it was boring, as if they couldn't think for themselves, or express their own opinion for fear of the repercussions.

There was no fun, no _challenge_, in this. It was good in theory, not in practice.

Akaba ran a hand through his hair distractedly, eyes wider than normal behind his tinted glasses.

How on Earth could he have thought that a day of Kotarou being silent could be pleasant?! This was going to be _hellish_.

The first class of the day was English, and when the teacher had called upon Kotarou to read from the textbook Akaba had _helpfully_ informed her that the other boy had lost his voice.

Then one of their classmates remarked: "Oh, so that's why it's been so quiet." causing the rest of them to chuckle dryly.

Akaba could _feel_ Kotarou's glare intensify, and uncharacteristically wondered if he should have just kept quiet so that the teacher could have figured it out for herself.

Apparently being unable to speak forced Kotarou to use other means of communication, instead of just glaring, because not even a full minute afterwards he flicked a piece of paper onto Akaba's desk.

Akaba had sort of been looking forward to reading the small note that had been thrown at him, because it was at least one step above just being silently glared at, but unfortunately their English teacher didn't seem to share his sentiment. She grabbed the folder paper before Akaba had the chance to covertly read it and gave Kotarou a firm warning not to pass such _secretive_ looking notes during class, no voice or not.

Kotarou didn't toss any more notes his way.

Lunch was no fun, instead of making any of his trademark comments he wondered if this was what the infamous 'silent treatment' was like, and the afternoon classes ended up being just as boring as the morning's.

Practice was particularly dreadful, and Akaba felt himself pause whenever he was about to say or do something he knew Kotarou would usually respond to. Perhaps he was being a bit childish, but he couldn't help but think _what was the point_ of doing those things when no one would respond in quite the same way as Kotarou would.

Plus if he continued to do them Kotarou might start to think he was making fun of him and begin to hate him for it, something which Akaba _did not want_.

They both suffered in silence for the rest of practice.

The following morning as soon as he caught sight of Kotarou he made his way towards the dark haired boy, his pace just a little quicker than normal, although he made sure not to look too concerned.

He stopped just in front of the kicker, noting with a small amount of satisfaction that the other boy had paused as well, instead of just brushing past him.

"Kotarou, how are you feeling today?" He asked smoothly and the dark haired boy raised an eyebrow at him, making no move to speak.

Akaba brought his hands down upon Kotarou's shoulders, anxiously looking the other boy in the eyes. "You... You're not still-"

"Get your hands offa me Akaba, or I'll remove them myself." Kotarou ordered, digging a hand into his pocket to pull out his comb.

"You can speak again! Wonderful!"

"I _said_ get your- What the hell?! Don't hug me, you bastard!" Kotarou squirmed uncomfortably. "When I get loose I'm gonna make you regret doing this _so much!_ Just you wait! You'll have to detach yourself from me sooner or later!"

"..."

"Are you even _listening_ to me?!"

"Of course."


End file.
